


sword in hand, to save him

by acidquill



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e05 Frayed, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:36:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidquill/pseuds/acidquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not always knights on white horses. Sometimes, it's a teacher in a Toyota.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sword in hand, to save him

**Author's Note:**

> tag for the end of Frayed. wrote it more as a general Jennifer-positive story, but could be Derek/Jennifer if that's the way you wanna squint. just having some fun w/ a less-fleshed out character. does my Jennifer voice sound a lot like my Stiles voice? yup.

Jennifer’s had a long day. Even with a chunk of her class out for the cross-country meet it’s still a battle to get the remaining students to see 18th century American lit as appealing as the latest gossip on which Kardashian is pregnant this week or the backlog of texts piling up while enduring ninety minutes in her strict ‘no-phone’ purgatory.  
  
She’s not thinking anything past getting home and out of these damn pantyhose once she hits the parking lot. She tosses the tests from yesterday into the passenger seat, slides under the wheel and toes off her heels; there’s something implicitly freeing about driving barefoot.  
  
Before she has the keys in the ignition something thuds against her window. There’s a moment of blind panic when Jennifer can’t process the smear of red against the glass, the shape of something - a hand, oh god - and a face. _Derek_.  
  
Jennifer’s very own knight in dubious armor. She watches, sickly fascinated at the puff of his breath condensing on the window, the slide of his hand through the blood. He drops from her line of sight. Jennifer shakes herself. Fuck, people don’t go around bleeding for no reason and she’s ninety-nine percent sure the guy just passed out cold.  
  
She bolts out of the car. Derek’s sprawled out on the asphalt. Jennifer drops to her knees beside him. She’s not exactly Florence Nightingale, but she’s picked up enough over the years to wing it a little. She checks his pulse; it’s slower than it should be. Then again, Derek just fainted. She’s pretty sure he’s entitled. He’s breathing steady at least, though he’s bloody and looks like someone attacked him with a lawnmower. Jennifer glances around the lot. Can’t decide if she wants someone to show up and help or if that would just make things worse. She’s already the ‘creepy bird teacher,‘ after all. She can only imagine what she’s in for if someone finds her out here with a unconscious man who could double as an extra from a horror movie.  
  
No one steps out of the school and she doesn’t feel right leaving Derek here while she goes for help.  Jennifer takes a deep breath. She can do this. Derek saved her ass the other night from… whatever that was; she can’t very well abandon him when he needs a little rescuing in return.  She lifts his head into her lap, tries to bring him around with a couple soft taps to his jaw.  
  
“Derek? Can you open your eyes for me?” He doesn’t even twitch. “Derek?”  
  
Still nothing. Jennifer sets her jaw. They can’t stay in the parking lot, and she has the feeling Derek wouldn’t appreciate an ambulance - even though that’s exactly who she should be calling. She doesn’t.  
  
“Okay. Alright. Here’s what’s gonna happen- I’m gonna get you in the car.” Jennifer can’t tell if he can hear her or not, but she kinda wants to freak out and this isn’t really the time for that. Talking out loud helps and currently there’s no one conscious enough to tell her to shut up.  
  
“We are going to drive to er. My place I guess. So I’ll get you patched up or stapled, no, don’t. Forget I said that. You’re going to be fine. We’re heading to my apartment. We’re going to fix you. Everything will be fine. Heck, you’ll probably be awake by then.” If he isn’t, the three flights of stairs in her building might be a tiny problem. Jennifer rolls her eyes.  
  
“Like getting caught with a half-dead guy between here and there isn’t more likely,” she mutters. Her therapist would have a field day with her this week.  
  
She eases herself behind him so she can get her arms under both of his. Lifts, and with some work gets him halfway off the ground. Halfway is as far as he’s going. Derek outweighs her by about fifty pounds and all of it is muscle. Holy God. She drags him inch by inch toward the car, tries not to wince at the scouring she’s no doubt giving the back of the poor man’s legs against the pavement.  
  
“You know, I’m really glad I didn’t give up those zumba classes,” Jennifer laughs, a little breathless.  
  
She props Derek against the wheel well and opens the door. Getting him in the car is harder than getting him to it, but she manages to settle him onto the backseat without embarrassing either of them too much. There may have been hands in some awkward places, and some brief full body contact. But Derek is _in the car_ , so she’s counting the whole thing as a win.  
  
Jennifer closes the door and climbs back into the driver’s seat. Derek’s bloody handprint is still on the window. She grips the steering wheel, takes another deep breath.  
  
“Here we go.”


End file.
